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In morals, truth is but little prized when it is a mere sentiment, and only attains its full value when realized in the world as fact.

quote by Ernest Renan
Added by Lucian Velea
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That warm island submerged -那 一 座 温 暖 的 岛 沉 没 了

Translation:

[ That warm island submerged ]那 一 座 温 暖 的 岛 沉 没 了 - mulberry grove has done to 2001.10.24 13: 39 starseven0starseven0 Feng Wen the Shu

The black wave is pursuing that white-feathered bird. The white-feathered bird is unable to eliminate the terror the air, white-feathered bird's chest soon submerges in disappointed jet black Tao. That warm incomparable island, eternal submersion. That most beautiful island -- she is the brown black hair, in the eye has the children is candid -- newly passes the spring the Tai Qing breath -- blue green grass such clear fragrant candidness. This island gold and greens, most lovable island -- she is white-feathered bird's mother. That is noble, loves to the tree, the bird, the insect happy song white-feathered bird. Deep move these small lives' white-feathered birds. Now the black wave is dreadful, wants to swallow the white-feathered bird perishes. A poisonous snake, soon embezzles the lamb which goes all out to struggle. Goes all out the white-feathered bird which revolts, the forehead soon submerges in cold bone black Tao.

Suddenly, the big detonation, the big detonation, the black wave has put out the white-feathered bird. Most loves mother's son has been saved, in the world the best youth has been saved, the thunderclap writings, the electricity sword anxious thorn, compared to a steel and iron stronger was black wave to crush, was saved compared to a rose more enchanting white-feathered bird. The happiest music was saved. Is any magic weapon, has avoided your eternal submersion -- dear white-feathered bird, ' is the weapon, is the invincible spirit with the weapon which loves -- is truth this invincible weapon, arouses the white-feathered bird to give birth the courage, vigor -- this courage, the vigor, formidable to the death, truth mercy granting, turned into the startling thunderclap, the fire dodged the weapon, the scrap compared to a steel and iron stronger has been black wave, has rescued bird's arrogant -- this world non- price valuable -- that the white-feathered bird which is seized by the poisonous snake.' This truth is any, the dear white-feathered bird, forever arrived the life land center white-feathered bird, asks you to tell me to tell me. ' After I am seized by the dark night wave a while, the truth wants me, must exactly I crazily shout, I must exactly, have exactly.

Suddenly my tears flow copiously, heart rat-a-tat, from poisonous snake's stomach, rebound my chest. When my affection exhaling, I love you, I have loved has hated all people, I love you, after my tree grass flower-and-bird insect, suddenly rises the giant which is indomitable spirit, I broken am unable to withstand in mind ruins. The giant lifts up high the thunder, the hand grasps the electricity sword. I tremble am trembling for a very long time, in the strong winds small leaf is trembling. By now the truth bestowed for mine love heat flow 周 留 whole body,1,100 loves ropes -- silver light glistens the love rope, recaptures me from the black wave mouth, recaptures from poisonous Shekou, when the black wave is nipping me once more, by now my body was revolving, was revolving, was revolving. That meteor sends out the sun immediately glory, the rise, the rise, The rise, is revolving, is revolving, is revolving, likes all around oneself revolving. The brightest star winks focuses, revolves around the sun.' The white-feathered bird sings like this. Listens, ' was the great truth has rescued me, did not have the truth, I could submerge. The truth helped me to defeat the death. Restored me free and infinite is carefree. Is the truth bestows for me this lovable little darling.' Is the white-feathered bird in Le Chang. Quickly looks, that beaming white-feathered bird, brings to be saved young man's little darling, in the day is hovering, tornado same liking, sings from this to hit departs, departs, surely a pigeon, departs from the sunlight deep place, hovers, hovers, the dear white-feathered bird, my heart turned into surely a pigeon, hovers in March blue day white clouds

[ Runs away marriage ] the early morning to listen to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao. A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' Afternoon listens to that to the magpie bird, climbs Qi Huanjiao in the bamboo grove. Then to the cuckoo commended the magpie said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' The father, why do you have to lose me this deceased person pit, my poor sentiment elder brother setting up around this my this cane, sentiment elder brother is in each province youth's youth, why are you called the militiaman to detain me with the gun to enter your gate. Living disperses the cane tree family booklet. Why do you have to lose me this deceased person pit. Compels me to remarry for Chou the wealthy person living corpse.

The mother, you quite cruel-heartedly does obeisance the view world sound like the pilgrim, your soft knife has killed daughter's heart, you just knelt under the daughter foot, daughter's hurried to help up mother, the daughter to see mother the eye class water splash to be a go-between the line. The daughter foot one is soft, the heart trembles, the daughter also horse glances flows the water splash to be a go-between the line. Sentiment elder brother, my mother along daddy's wish, I is not willing to see mother's sadness, has to be suitable mother's wish, has to usher in this Chou wealthy person's courtyard by the daddy. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao. A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' This wealth host family is not the person day, this wealth host family's money 800 years cannot use up, but this wealthy person does not have the sentiment, you knew the younger sister most treasures your affection. How is called the younger sister to manage, how manages. My daddy is does not get up the gambling debt, changed money with me the account also.

My daddy life is concerned about face-saving, is concerned about face-saving, unexpectedly in order to own good reputation ruin the daughter. Afternoon listens to that to the magpie bird, climbs Qi Huanjiao in the bamboo grove. Then to the cuckoo commended the magpie said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' The younger sister sees that to fall in love to the cuckoo intimate, remembered the before younger sister to enter the bamboo grove to climb, selected the small oil lamp to meet you to go me home. The at that time I the daddy like you, day in day out every one with a your group. The at that time I the daddy have not stained gamble this abuse. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao. A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.'

Afternoon listens to that to the magpie bird, climbs Qi Huanjiao in the bamboo grove. Then to the cuckoo commended the magpie said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' The cuckoo, I did not dare to want to get down, did not dare to want to get down. How do I to result in me sentiment elder brother, how do I have a face see me sentiment elder brother. The magpie, my daddy is pig iron, what wants to make to have to make what, who also pulls this pig iron not curved. My daddy in order to gamble on defends the credit, is living disperses daughter's family booklet, my daddy was considered as emperor which on gambled. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. I like hating to occur simultaneously, like hating daddy any matter all to want to struggle first. Right, the cuckoo, my daddy does gambles this misdemeanor works as first, before my daddy likes helping the person also to work as first. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao.

A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' Otherwise before how is my daddy sure to specially to like me sentiment elder brother. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. I inherited my daddy to like struggling the first temperament, I loved me mother in 远 远 近 近 the border, I was in the loyal son daughter first. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao.

A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' Afternoon listens to that to the magpie bird, climbs Qi Huanjiao in the bamboo grove. Then to the cuckoo commended the magpie said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together. Cuckoo, when I was thinking when I have been suitable mother's heart, my heart extremely is happy, therefore I hear your Qi Huanming. When I thought I brought to sentiment elder brother to be obsolete, I heard your uneven wail. You said how is called me to manage, how manages, sometimes I as soon as was thinking my mother, the daddy, I alone on with fantasy in mother, the daddy speaks. Sometimes I as soon as was thinking my sentiment elder brother, I alone on speaks with fantasy in sentiment elder brother. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. Who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. This black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, at that time younger sister arrogant, merry, at that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. Has very many times, I on the life in the fantasy, that wealthy person came back me not to know. That wealthy person after is common I in to speak, often puts out a hand the daddy which pulls in my illusion, mother, pulls in my illusion sentiment elder brother, for this my sober Bai Xingai that wealthy person - 活 阎 王 many ear and the area around it, 活 阎 王 said I intentionally pay no attention to his this household head. 活 阎 王 meets the person to say my brain malfunctioned.

I meet the martial arts, that 活 阎 王 hits only me, asks the person to aim at my chest with the gun, bundled me gets up. The early morning listens to that to the cuckoo, in field jetty head Qi Huanjiao. A pair of magpie commended the cuckoo said, ' gathers the cordiality in the bird the bird, is willing you to grow old together.' The younger sister sees that to fall in love to the cuckoo intimate, remembered the before younger sister to enter the bamboo grove to climb, selected the small oil lamp to meet you to go me home. I just rubbed broke the bunch of my rope, you looked I am hit cut and bruised, I had to escape this living hell. In this world, I am do not dare to go home see my mother, sees me to injury like this, my mother does not irritate also fine the big sickness. My wound also is flowing the blood, I have already spread haemostatics to the wound. I already should suffer the evil person hungry three nights which is cut to pieces three days.

Endures, endures, if not were thinking must implicate me the daddy and mother, I really want to put a flare this living hell 烧 完 . Endures, endures, endures this wonderful huge shame, that incessant sea cannot clean in my mind the shame. Quickly runs away, quickly runs away, in the sky has resounded the startling thunderclap, weakly to extremely me, suddenly cheered the storm to rip open has imprisoned me the jail. I have become god of god of freedom the freedom, quick, quickly runs away to mine sentiment elder brother, quick, quick, quick, quick, quickly overtakes the footsteps which that fire dodges, listens, listens, the angry thunder greatly exploded in the sky, I have thrown down and broken in this room all antiques jade carving, the rumour suddenly in each place sound, the fire glistened more and more quickly, in my wilderness 逃 奔 , the cloud layer, was jumping over the pressure to be lower, suddenly a big thunderclap greatly exploded in the top of the head, free, the liberation joyful thunder greatly exploded in my mind, The big detonation, my heart finally lived, my heart thump rat-a-tat jumped not good frightens very much, in my wilderness was dashing, the electric light dashed about wildly on Ono.

The storm comes, the storm comes, listens, the might invincible storm has swayed all, the earth also had to swing as if by the storm turns. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. At that time younger sister arrogant, is merry, this black 水 寨 person who doesn't praise, who doesn't praise your me is an inborn pair of phoenix. I barefoot, in the lightning is running, the bang rumble, in the big detonation thunderclap is running, excited, trembles, also happy fears my crazy corona head, my positive image is escaping the reins the wild horse, dashes about wildly, dashes about wildly, dashes about wildly to that chaotic rain in dark deep place, god of the my this freedom is holding the mood which takes the blame and to infinite is happy crazily yearned for, flew this hump under, I was making a pilgrimage to a famous mountain temple fly, in that storm had a lamp, I knew that was a lamp which my sentiment elder brother selected, my sentiment elder brother was looking at the written thing.

My this rain person, is flying to mine sentiment elder brother, flies, flies, I am shouting loudly, I am shouting loudly, I 悲 喜 交 加 the tear, I 悲 喜 交 加 the tear, collected into the delightful storm, collected into the delightful storm, my unprecedented love was bringing complete universe calm wild with joy, was bringing throughout history calm wild with joy, my unprecedented love, was bringing complete universe calm wild with joy, was bringing throughout history calm wild with joy, my this rain person, was flying to mine sentiment elder brother, flew,

Flies the first draft to 2,002,11,4,4 finalizes a manuscript to 2002,11,4,7, [ 牛 郎 and 织 女 ] narrative poem Feng Wen the Shu - mulberry grove makes the first draft to 2,007, the Yuan,9,11,40 finalizes a manuscript to 2007, the Yuan,10,5,12

If commits suicide by fire the phoenix regenerates from the ashes, your that if the katydid, the blue cicada, the cuckoo trembles the heart to confuse the soul singing sound, causes me regenerates from pain and in the lonely grave. Expels the cold eternal universe dark night fiery dawn positive -- your this 织 女 , just and your six elder sisters swim in the lake, either the leap or steps on, pursues the entertainment, you and eldest sister water play. That mysterious water buffalo teaches I steals 织 女 clothes, very quick, I want 织 女 to throw embroider the ball to me, very quick, my this poor king had found 织 女 , may the stabbing pain young girls heart, cover the young girls not to be able to look my non- Qian Wushi. By now, my heart crazily jumped awfully, the blood has caught fire, I had to leap the universe to be wild with joy 绝 顶 , I went out the flowering shrubs which that hid, under the shore weeping willow's thick patch of grass which the dynasty swayed fly, stole 织 女 Bai Ruxue women's clothing. Let me stretch out the arms, Russia 织 女 the hug, I vainly hoped for I with 织 女 , 男 耕 女 织 am good. I must arrive outside Wan Zhongshan the Qingshui Jiang to go immediately, when - 织 女 swims while God most my daughter, steals its upper and lower garments, causes it to be unable the great power, then tries moves 织 女 the heart of a young woman.

That mysterious water buffalo only then tells me, said the God seven females, Chang Yong in that continually Qingshui Jiang's big lake, but this time roll of thunder, cloud burst, but who can know, in this moment my mind pain startling thunderclap, also must 凶 猛 than the space startling thunderclap, this beautiful hope is my weekend, arouses in my mind the long crazy painful startling thunderclap, wants the scrap as if my chest, I calm endure am dying to my big bombing. '

The revenge, the revenge, I must to your this pain revenge, ' in I dazzling electric light roar. I seized in my mind to spit 连 珠 the great thunder tiger's tail, ' now you must repay owe my debt, this debt -- was you has given me to die with deeply grieved, this moment, you had to turn heavy Gan Mi immediately the huge life and are happy, otherwise, I had to hang you on the universe big tree show the audiences '. I very good have used painful this great thing, with mine infinite pain, heavily created 蜜 甜 to be able to press turns the great ship the happy song, waits for big lake which I found 织 女 swims, after has stolen 织 女 the clothing, 织 女 was unable to fly the heavenly palace, by now I had to use this happy happy song moved 织 女 looking upon with favor, this time, after I recited this songer, my eye turned has burst into tears the spring, my mind 转 流 tear spring. ' This I intend to have by no means with the dark cloud female celestial match rain, truly is my revelry and proud, turned into the bead tears immediately, leaves my eye, the mind, has been in flood the universe, is more vast than the storm. After I create mine boundless pain distress Cheng Zheizhi to be happy heavily to Taishan's this happy song, by now, I got a light from another light dodge the female celestial to say like this. The thunder sound writings, unceasingly the big storm, three days, this might king's anger has not rested, although the beautiful hope has taken to me 1,000 deaths, but I still was longing for mystical distant place Gan Huang 织 女 , hopes to spin 织 女 very quickly becomes my forever mandarin duck companion wild goose partner's forever home to return to, the forever affiliation consoles, listens to the water buffalo to say, 织 女 was best, is beautiful 丽 都 , lively, temperate female celestial, my heart has flown black Wan Zhongshan, is inquiring to that day in star 织 女 arrives the world in the big lake to swim for a long time.

I have dreamed of by now heavily happy 织 女 , I have seized the smooth element arm which runs swiftly 织 女 , lets me lie down in your bosom, after I just like this said, the sudden dream broke, after happy has had the new pain, by now in my mind, was born a new painful tiger, this painful tiger, continued puts out the new 连 珠 great thunder, in that universe the thunderclap, the storm has not stopped, this, compared to in the nature big thunder also 凶 猛 my mind pain thunder, formerly also wanted wild 凶 猛 than, inexhaustible death, Has seized my mind, a wolf has seized a lamb as if, my mind, calm is enduring the inexhaustible death to my big bombing. By now, I longed for dissipated immediately surpasses me to endure patiently the limit the pain, but I 无 计 可 施 , only easily to use sang to summon me 织 女 , ' 织 女 , 织 女 ...... '

With the similar tonality, my lover's fine reputation is a strongman as if, can lift the body which I pitiful not helps, causes it not to submerge in the universe bottomless misery abyss, I on use to sing like this to summon my lover -- 织 女 , 织 女 ...... By now my lover's fine reputation was happy, the mysterious medicinal ointment, pastes in the mind which I broken is unable to withstand, the beautiful paper-cut window decoration pastes on the glass, reduced my pain, I on use to sing like this to summon my lover -- 织 女 , 织 女 ...... My lover 甘 美 the mysterious fine reputation, pastes in the mind which I broken is unable to withstand, the beautiful paper-cut window decoration pastes on the glass, reduced my pain, I on like this continuous with sing to summon my lover -- 织 女 , 织 女 ...... Had not known for a long time, that beautiful mercy small dream god has closed my eye, I had forgotten I receive painful this capital punishment, hovers in is peaceful, tranquil, delightful dream god state, the white pigeon hovers in the blue sky. New day has come, after the storm opens expands the heart the most beautiful weather, Lin Yejian the bird calls happily, is cheerful, may everywhere have the flowered tree to hang the tear, sighs woefully own many children, has been taken away by the storm the life. I ran swiftly that broken old thatched hut, I happy was calling, ' I free, I was free, That has gone into seclusion to in the earth under rock fire to dodge, comes out in a big hurry, I must use the fire to dodge make the place to ride, I must fly immediately to me 织 女 the side go, by now, I faced under the earth the rock loudly to yell, tend sheep the female dynasty pure white flock of sheep loudly to yell. My water buffalo is carrying me and my son, flew upwards, flies upwards that Baihe River's big wave to block the way, might the water buffalo Russia Russia get sick by now, was unable to fly a wave to inundate the cloud the Milky Way, cried, cried, I loudly wept bitterly, tear Tao collected into roars the milky way, let the milky way be more majestic. Listens, listens, could not open tearful eyes me which feels pain, by now heard to swing the soul happy immortal to be happy - ' comes, to let us be Liang for you, helped your fathers and sons to go to the heavenly palace to see 织 女 , ' surely only glistened the silver light green green magpie simultaneous like this sprinkled to me 甘 美 yelling, the timely rain. ' Lives, lives, ' I loudly cheer, under was the wave which the anger eats delicacies, I am pulling the son which just the academic society walked, in feather soft, was warm can run on the horse-drawn vehicle happy magpie bridge to front, to front, to front.

Acrobat in steel wire to front, to front, to front, ' Lingers with the heavenly palace compares, between my spouse, the world also has many misery, pitiful, alone, unfortunate person, I must arrive the world to help the distressed. The love is not a matter which my life only must do, ' by now, I 织 女 like this said to flower month equally sweet E. ' I lift both hands to approve you greatly rescue the misery the enterprise, ' opens the mouth nine to smile 织 女 said like this with the thrush bird sweet voice. ' Thank you to help me to frustrate your father, your father wanted me to become lost, but you gave my chicken feather, the change big cockerel, in each road fork, in each road fork, referred to the road for me, enable me to return to your side, your father deceived on me the danger danger Pine height thousand feet, the result I has not plunged to death and starves to death, was you beforehand gives my cloth to do 软 梯 , helped me to get down the tree, your father put the fire, had to burn me dies, you which had the foreknowledge gives me a big crab, Was this big crab has dug a water pool, I hid in the water pool, I have not only then thrown oneself burn down die. ' I to 织 女 said. ' Don't such said that, rescues you rescues I, ' 织 女 this soft and gentle words are bringing thousand barrels honey as if, took root in on my mind earth, 枸 tree's seed, took root on the earth, how do you speak, sing are also sweeter than ours honey, the envy honeybee said like this to me, ' the present, we might be loaf, looked, our this honeybee family, already yours speech and the song, collected in our spatial honey barrel, regarded as the match honey. We do not need in the wind to come in again the rain, when is severely cold or the intense summer heat, is the pollen, is tired out from the press.' '

Is I is flawless 织 女 , gives the sacred infinite sentiment I, this infinite sentiment and 织 女 thousand time of loves delight, in my mind, turned a super honeybee, therefore, my speech and the song honey has only then died you, lets you regenerate in the servant dream - you wants to be my family the servant. Really strange, is really strange, is not really has this matter.' After I said like this, honeybee queen and her subjects nods in abundance. I and 织 女 am charmed am not having to the high benevolent nature, the mystical nature has given me the life by the significance, the wisdom and the inexhaustible creativity is my spirit eternal life strut, is my first propelling force. ' With the nature compared to, your father too was small 渺 . You to my value, exceed your father's royal crown, but congealed your my painstaking care my happy song, exceeds the world all royal crowns.' I sit facing each other in front of ours thatched hut window 织 女 said like this. I 织 女 long live, I 织 女 long live, after I cheer like this, to 织 女 , around that Lin Niaoye sends out happy calls, that fog locks in the mountain valley newly passes cuckoo miserable crying out in grief. ' I am forming in one's mind to give to the beautiful nature the song, lets us arrive nature there to sojourn for a long time. ' I to am loving 织 女 said. ' Right, I also like this thought, on the belt you newly do the song makes the gift, gives to the nature.' I and 织 女 pray for heavenly blessing the nature, hopes the nature forever freely, the health, is cheerful happy Makes the lamp oil - god lamp with yours belief Feng Wen the Shu - mulberry grove does ' Selects the lamp to come, makes the lamp oil with yours belief, the hope which the enthusiasm and conquers the lamp lights, that swing which opens to your body inside is weeping and wailing don't again in the wave crest heavy load sad ship, ' lives in seclusion under the earth bursts into tears in the spring prophet to shout like this with the rock magma stress. ' lamp comes, makes the lamp oil with yours belief, the hope which the enthusiasm and conquers the lamp lights, that swing which opens to your body inside is weeping and wailing don't again in the wave crest heavy load sad ship, ' lives in seclusion under the earth bursts into tears in the spring prophet to shout like this with the rock magma stress. ' lamp comes, makes the lamp oil with your immortal belief, the hope which the enthusiasm and conquers the lamp lights, looked, but also does not need that rigid steel fork on the waist to hang all over the cask to patrol the sea green eyebrow 狼 眼 demon to break your chest to pull out your heart to make the food and wine, looked, you both do not have the shield and not to have the copper hammer the heart to expose in front of the demon eye, that demon face up is drinking, then just put in compared to a earth on mountain peak bigger demon the hand the space in the star kingdom, picked 99 stars sea equally big eyes to drink, This demon disliked food and wine insufficient, your 103 despair heart weeping and wailing, waits on the child compared to on liquor to smile without doubt shouted can cause the demon murderous intention, that just drank the next 108 barrels liquors the eye to shut hits the sleepy demon to approach as if own 100 that to sit the eye 103 hearts which finally forcefully opened arrow of on the desire inflamed cries to feel pain, the situation extremely was dangerous, by now, that demon picture grasped a peanut equally to grasp 103 hearts which the angry glare looked at each other, put on inside the gold table white jade plate, This demon unexpectedly must set up a tablet, will commemorate must make the food and wine in a moment 103 hearts, this demon will be grinding ink, by now ' went out bursts into tears the spring prophet to say like this, suddenly will draw out a pen from the sleeve, will out to kill the demon to that darkness in which loudly will roar to throw, will throw like the youth David's stone to giant song advantage Asia, only will see in an instant the thunderclap writings, will have the household utensils to bump the garrulous sound, this pen unexpectedly will change to makes the copper hammer which 103 shields and 103 pairs will glisten, will appear in the numerous hearts hand, this moment, will kill the sound writings, Suddenly,1,000 凶 恶 bigger demons rush, the demon is every time overthrown by the copper hammer, has the new 100 demons to come to reenforce, By now, was killing in the inextricably involved universe battlefield Russia 甫 to transmit the intense armed force drum sound, accompanied majestically is shocking hills the thunderclap, the more exciting armed force bugle call, that crazy dance fire dodged on the combat tank suddenly rolled down for the numerous hearts increase strength swings the chest the aid stress - ' to select the lamp to come, made the lamp oil with your immortal belief, the hope which the enthusiasm and conquered the lamp lights, and had to win the will with the desperately spirit to make your lamp the spirit, 话 音 刚 落 , that decision victory and defeat already 103 lamp bowls which lights, Illuminates this dark vast boundless battlefield, in each lamp suddenly jumps out the invincible wise brave warrior which 10,000 grasps the thunderclap, originally the will which and had to win the oneself desperately spirit compels into on the very 凶 猛 numerous hearts the lamp bowl, compelled into like Sun Wukong 昊 昊 the magical powers secret inside own memory rock, in each lamp suddenly jumped out the invincible wise brave warrior which 10,000 grasped the thunderclap, originally by now obtained brave warrior's aid on the very 凶 猛 numerous hearts which in the god lamp jumped out, simply was like the tiger adds the wing, by now, Only sees 1.03 million great is identical when to the demon chest throws, likes athlete's discus to throw after the hill, only sees at the same time which the dazzling electric light as soon as dodges,1.03 million big detonations great identical time scrap 1.03 million demons chests, the thunderclap rumbling rumbling has been disturbing the earth, throws oneself the rosefinch star by the thunder vibration sea water alienation, the Xuanwu star, the black dragon star, the white tiger star... This time, calmly carefreely and the brave warriors has changed in the grand fight holiday numerous hearts - has changed big -- with giant is same than numerous hearts the demon and the brave warrior compares, that demons simply are the ant equally diminutive ant - and the brave warrior compare with the giant same numerous hearts, By now, the war already was near the end, is killed by the copper hammer the demon, at least some 90,000, then by the great thunder scrap demon, some 9.27 million, only some several demons runs away to that twilight horizon, was having the demon which 90,000 fears trembled to kneel is lifting both hands to the numerous hearts and the brave warriors surrenders, some hearts closely pursued the demon which that ran away, Selects the lamp to come, makes the lamp oil with yours belief

poem by Starseven0 Starseven0
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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Truth Through Repetition

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tion Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repeti
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Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetiion
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition
ruth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition T
uth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tr
th through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tru
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through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth

poem by David Keig
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I. The Ring and the Book

Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,
Effects a manageable mass, then works:
But his work ended, once the thing a ring,
Oh, there's repristination! Just a spirt
O' the proper fiery acid o'er its face,
And forth the alloy unfastened flies in fume;
While, self-sufficient now, the shape remains,
The rondure brave, the lilied loveliness,
Gold as it was, is, shall be evermore:
Prime nature with an added artistry—
No carat lost, and you have gained a ring.
What of it? 'T is a figure, a symbol, say;
A thing's sign: now for the thing signified.

Do you see this square old yellow Book, I toss
I' the air, and catch again, and twirl about
By the crumpled vellum covers,—pure crude fact
Secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard,
And brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since?
Examine it yourselves! I found this book,
Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,
(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,
Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,
One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,
Across a Square in Florence, crammed with booths,
Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time,
Toward Baccio's marble,—ay, the basement-ledge
O' the pedestal where sits and menaces
John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,
'Twixt palace and church,—Riccardi where they lived,
His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

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poem by Robert Browning
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

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poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,
Ye summon to a task shall test his worth,
And manufacture, as he knows and can,
A work may decorate a palace-wall,
Afford my lords their Holy Family,—
Hath it escaped the acumen of the Court
How such a painter sets himself to paint?
Suppose that Joseph, Mary and her Babe
A-journeying to Egypt, prove the piece:
Why, first he sedulously practiseth,
This painter,—girding loin and lighting lamp,—
On what may nourish eye, make facile hand;
Getteth him studies (styled by draughtsmen so)
From some assistant corpse of Jew or Turk
Or, haply, Molinist, he cuts and carves,—
This Luca or this Carlo or the like.
To him the bones their inmost secret yield,
Each notch and nodule signify their use:
On him the muscles turn, in triple tier,
And pleasantly entreat the entrusted man
"Familiarize thee with our play that lifts
"Thus, and thus lowers again, leg, arm and foot!"
—Ensuring due correctness in the nude.
Which done, is all done? Not a whit, ye know!
He,—to art's surface rising from her depth,—
If some flax-polled soft-bearded sire be found,
May simulate a Joseph, (happy chance!)—
Limneth exact each wrinkle of the brow,
Loseth no involution, cheek or chap,
Till lo, in black and white, the senior lives!
Is it a young and comely peasant-nurse

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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II. Half-Rome

What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)

Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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IV. Tertium Quid

True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Tirocinium; or, a Review of Schools

It is not from his form, in which we trace
Strength join'd with beauty, dignity with grace,
That man, the master of this globe, derives
His right of empire over all that lives.
That form, indeed, the associate of a mind
Vast in its powers, ethereal in its kind,
That form, the labour of Almighty skill,
Framed for the service of a freeborn will,
Asserts precedence, and bespeaks control,
But borrows all its grandeur from the soul.
Hers is the state, the splendour, and the throne,
An intellectual kingdom, all her own.
For her the memory fills her ample page
With truths pour’d down from every distant age;
For her amasses an unbounded store,
The wisdom of great nations, now no more;
Though laden, not encumber’d with her spoil;
Laborious, yet unconscious of her toil;
When copiously supplied, then most enlarged;
Still to be fed, and not to be surcharged.
For her the Fancy, roving unconfined,
The present muse of every pensive mind,
Works magic wonders, adds a brighter hue
To Nature’s scenes than Nature ever knew.
At her command winds rise and waters roar,
Again she lays them slumbering on the shore;
With flower and fruit the wilderness supplies,
Or bids the rocks in ruder pomp arise.
For her the Judgment, umpire in the strife
That Grace and Nature have to wage through life,
Quick-sighted arbiter of good and ill,
Appointed sage preceptor to the Will,
Condemns, approves, and, with a faithful voice,
Guides the decision of a doubtful choice.
Why did the fiat of a God give birth
To yon fair Sun and his attendant Earth?
And, when descending he resigns the skies,
Why takes the gentler Moon her turn to rise,
Whom Ocean feels through all his countless waves,
And owns her power on every shore he laves?
Why do the seasons still enrich the year,
Fruitful and young as in their first career?
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock’d in the cradle of the western breeze:
Summer in haste the thriving charge receives
Beneath the shade of her expanded leaves,
Till Autumn’s fiercer heats and plenteous dews
Dye them at last in all their glowing hues.—
‘Twere wild profusion all, and bootless waste,
Power misemploy’d, munificence misplaced,

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poem by William Cowper
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Bishop Blougram's Apology

No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.

So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
—Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.

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poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
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Three Women

My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.

Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.

Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.

Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.

Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.

1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.

Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,

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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Gareth And Lynette

The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent,
And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring
Stared at the spate. A slender-shafted Pine
Lost footing, fell, and so was whirled away.
'How he went down,' said Gareth, 'as a false knight
Or evil king before my lance if lance
Were mine to use--O senseless cataract,
Bearing all down in thy precipitancy--
And yet thou art but swollen with cold snows
And mine is living blood: thou dost His will,
The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know,
Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall
Linger with vacillating obedience,
Prisoned, and kept and coaxed and whistled to--
Since the good mother holds me still a child!
Good mother is bad mother unto me!
A worse were better; yet no worse would I.
Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer,
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep
In ever-highering eagle-circles up
To the great Sun of Glory, and thence swoop
Down upon all things base, and dash them dead,
A knight of Arthur, working out his will,
To cleanse the world. Why, Gawain, when he came
With Modred hither in the summertime,
Asked me to tilt with him, the proven knight.
Modred for want of worthier was the judge.
Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said,
"Thou hast half prevailed against me," said so--he--
Though Modred biting his thin lips was mute,
For he is alway sullen: what care I?'

And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair
Asked, 'Mother, though ye count me still the child,
Sweet mother, do ye love the child?' She laughed,
'Thou art but a wild-goose to question it.'
'Then, mother, an ye love the child,' he said,
'Being a goose and rather tame than wild,
Hear the child's story.' 'Yea, my well-beloved,
An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs.'

And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes,
'Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of mine
Was finer gold than any goose can lay;
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid
Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm
As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours.
And there was ever haunting round the palm
A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw

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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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A poem on divine revelation

This is a day of happiness, sweet peace,
And heavenly sunshine; upon which conven'd
In full assembly fair, once more we view,
And hail with voice expressive of the heart,
Patrons and sons of this illustrious hall.
This hall more worthy of its rising fame
Than hall on mountain or romantic hill,
Where Druid bards sang to the hero's praise,
While round their woods and barren heaths was heard
The shrill calm echo of th' enchanting shell.
Than all those halls and lordly palaces
Where in the days of chivalry, each knight,
And baron brave in military pride
Shone in the brass and burning steel of war;
For in this hall more worthy of a strain
No envious sound forbidding peace is heard,
Fierce song of battle kindling martial rage
And desp'rate purpose in heroic minds:
But sacred truth fair science and each grace
Of virtue born; health, elegance and ease
And temp'rate mirth in social intercourse
Convey rich pleasure to the mind; and oft
The sacred muse in heaven-breathing song
Doth wrap the soul in extasy divine,
Inspiring joy and sentiment which not
The tale of war or song of Druids gave.
The song of Druids or the tale of war
With martial vigour every breast inspir'd,
With valour fierce and love of deathless fame;
But here a rich and splendid throng conven'd
From many a distant city and fair town,
Or rural seat by shore or mountain-stream,
Breathe joy and blessing to the human race,
Give countenance to arts themselves have known,
Inspire the love of heights themselves have reach'd,
Of noble science to enlarge the mind,
Of truth and virtue to adorn the soul,
And make the human nature grow divine.

Oh could the muse on this auspicious day
Begin a song of more majestic sound,
Or touch the lyre on some sublimer key,
Meet entertainment for the noble mind.
How shall the muse from this poetic bow'r
So long remov'd, and from this happy hill,
Where ev'ry grace and ev'ry virtue dwells,
And where the springs of knowledge and of thought
In riv'lets clear and gushing streams flow down
Attempt a strain? How sing in rapture high

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poem by Hugh Henry Brackenridge
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